Love It When You're High, Love It When You're Not
by Sovoyita
Summary: Someone's sick, someone's high, and someone is screaming something about naughty nurses and sick patients. Overall, it's a good time.


**A/N**: Hello my wonderful peeps! Well, I was walking around school on Friday and realized that about every 2 out of 5 students were sick. And you know what that means: It's cold and flu season (at least it is where I live)! So, as a tribute to that little bug that bites at our noses and stuffs them up so much, here's this little one shot! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Twilight or its characters. But I do treat them like marionettes and scream, "Dance, my puppets, dance!" And, oh, they are so obedient (and I'm so lame). Anyway, Stephenie Meyer owns (and powns).

**LOVE IT WHEN YOU'RE HIGH, LOVE IT WHEN YOU'RE NOT  
**

"You've _got _to be kidding me."

"Hey, you were the one who had to go out and be a man and _try _to jumpstart my truck with that puny little thing that you call a car. In the rain no less."

Edward snorted nasally, his arm covering his eyes to hide away from the light. He coughed loudly, his free hand jumping to his throat quickly. It sounded raspy and hoarse, so unlike his naturally smooth voice.

"But it's just not fair. I don't _get _sick, ever." He groaned and removed his arm from his face, revealing his sickly pale skin and puffy eyes that were circled with dark shadows due to his inability to sleep with a stuffy nose. For about six hours, he had been suffering from the normal symptoms of one of the world's incurable viruses: the common cold. Internally, I snorted. He was my personal superhero, the only one that could handle everything in stride and now here he was, defeated by this one little bug.

"Jeez, you're not dying. It'll be gone before you know it and by then, you'll miss it because you don't get to skip out on chores." I laughed, somewhat entertained by this whole situation. I had always been the one getting sick or hurt and now it was my turn to play hero by retrieving Edward's normal over the counter medications and helping him get better. Plus, it gave me a chance to use the Cullen kitchen to make chicken soup. Chicken soup for the soul was my excuse to Esme. It was the only way I could get her to allow me to cook by myself. Otherwise, she would have taken my chance by offering to do it by herself. And as much as I loved her and knew Edward loved her cooking, I couldn't skip up on this. Her kitchen was enough to make any potential cook _want_ to be slaving over a steaming hot stove, possibly burning their skin with splattering oil and just reveling in the whole cherry wood cabinets and stainless steel appliances.

A light knock on the door followed by a squeaky hinge alerted us that Esme was entering the room. Well, it did help that I could smell her light, almost powdery perfume enter the hair and fill it was a homely freshness. Poor Edward, he was missing out on all of this.

Holding a lap-sized wooden tray, Esme pushed open the door with her hip and carried over what looked to be a glass of orange juice and a couple of small white boxes.

"Hey mom," Edward said in his gruff voice. "How's it going in the land of the healthy?" Esme laughed in light alto voice, her eyes crinkling slightly and the dimples on her cheeks showing up more. She had always reminded me of Snow White in a strange way. I always half expected for a flock of song birds and a few of the local deer to break through her windows in order to find her light voice humming through the halls as she dusted off the crystal figurines above the fireplace in the living room.

"Edward, I think you need to get some more rest. Being awake for too long always makes you grumpy." Edward grumbled under his breath and Esme chuckled before handing me the tray. She gave me a stern look. "Bella, be a dear and make sure he takes two tablespoons of the Coridicin and two tablespoons of the Dayquil. If I were you, I'd just mix them up together. He hates waiting for a line up." That was all she said before bending over to give Edward a kiss on the forehead. He sunk into his pillows and blankets and settled into them. Esme always had that effect on people. Just her presence was enough for any grown man want to be a child again with their mother singing them to sleep.

When I set the tray down, I turned back to Edward to see that his eyes were focused solely on something behind me and his mouth was hanging open.

"Oh no," Edward whispered in a strange tone. Nearly frantic with worry, I grabbed his hand in mine, relishing in how the fact that no matter how hot and clammy his skin was, it still felt good to hold his hand. I still got the same spark that had always been there, that little static feeling whenever his fingers brushed over the center of my palm, just barely grazing the lifeline.

"What's wrong Edward, are you okay? Are you in pain? Oh crap, you haven't taken your medicine yet. It'll help, hold on, let me get it for you." I dug into the little boxes as quickly as my fumbling fingers could handle only to drop them with surprise when I heard Edward scream, "No!"

Taken aback, I turned to Edward slowly, completely aware that he was holding onto an extra pillow in his arms and shaking his head defiantly, his mouth set into a hard line. A bit upset that he had made me drop the box, I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him with the same commanding stare I would use for any five year old that I would babysit.

"No what, Edward?" I tapped my foot against his bedroom floor, the carpet muffling the sound. He sighed. "I'm not taking the medicine. People used to go without over the counter drugs all the time. I'll just manage without them as well. Besides, I absolutely loathe grape flavored medicine. Whoever created it must have burned his taste buds away when they had tried their hand at being a chef."

"Edward," I said sternly, trying to keep my eyes from looking down too deeply into his depthless emerald eyes, "people from the past hadn't been exposed to the countless airborne chemicals that we are now and had much stronger immune systems than us. So, to make up for our disadvantages, you _will _take the medicine and you _will _do it without complaining, got it?" He shook his head defiantly and turned away, his nose up in the air even though he was sniffling loudly.

"I don't want it. You can't make me take it." He childishly stuck his tongue out at me and I nearly scoffed at how he was acting. I had babysat five year olds who were better behaved than this!

"Edward, I love you and despite the fact that you are right and I _can't _make you take the medicine, I know someone who can. Esme is very good with a funnel." His eyes widened before his face fell. I almost felt bad but I knew, in the end, he would appreciate it. With a solemn looking nod of consent, he allowed me to pour the two different syrups into a small cup. With a groan, he grabbed the cup from my hand and lifted it to his lips. I smiled and kissed his cheek before he could take a sip before turning around only to bump into the bedside dresser. The small white cap to the Robitussin fell to the floor. I nearly gasped. Near the dresser was the one of the few patches of white carpet in Edward's room, the patch I always avoided to prevent myself from somehow spilling something on it and forever staining it. I knew Esme would never be mad but just the thought of her seeing it sent shame through my bones. Quickly, I dove down and lifted the cap cautiously, careful not to rub it unnecessarily into the carpet. To my dismay, there was a tiny purple spot the size of a pencil tip sitting on the tip of the soft white carpet, nearly invisible to anyone who would look from afar.

Rather than taking a chance of rubbing it away, I stood back up to see Edward with the cup still at his lips, a clear grimace on his face. His eyes had crinkled and his mouth was set into a crooked line that told me that he had already taken his medicine. The little cup was empty and he had a purple stain on his bottom lip. "Oh god," he groaned, "that was worse than I thought." I took the little cup from his hands and placed back on the dresser, grabbing the glass of orange juice. I held it out to him.

"Here, maybe this'll get rid of the taste." He just shook his head and rested back into the pillows. With a curious stare and a shrug, I took a sip of the untouched juice. A strange flavor entered my mouth. The juice seemed a bit sour.

"Hey, you alright?" Edward questioned curiously, his voice sounding slightly different, even with its hoarse undertone.

"Yeah," I smacked my tongue against my palette, trying to fill my mouth with air to find what flavor was in my mouth. It seemed so familiar. "Does Esme squeeze her own orange juice?" Edward looked at me with a strange expression on his face before grinning.

"Yeah, she squeezes it out of the Tropicana carton," he laughed before coughing loudly into his fist. I smacked him for the sarcastic comment and sat beside him, wishing he wasn't sick. As much as it humored me to see him acting like a child, a sick, horribly behaved child with a nose that was excreting fluids, I wanted him back to his normal self. I had been denied the luxury of kissing him for the past day. His words were, "This is hurting me much more than it is you." The frown on his face was just barely enough to hide the crooked smirk that he laid on me after that line. Again, I kissed Edward's cheek and sat beside him, trying my best to soothe him by running my fingers through his hair while he sighed nasally yet contentedly.

**EPOV**

I was the worst patient ever.

I'd been sick very few times, probably due to the fact that Esme had tried her very best to keep me healthy seeing as she knew how I would act whenever I _did _get sick. So I hadn't become immune to the ghastly taste of most over the counter medications. I would have rather gotten several rather painful shots in my arm than have to deal with the taste that seemed to remain even though my nasal passages were closed and everything I ate tasted like cardboard. So when the opportunity came to dispose of the nauseating syrup that would most definitely stick to my palette and throat and force me to taste it over and over again like an enemy with a vengeance, I had to take it. As Bella bent over, most likely to try and avoid disaster with the falling cap lined with grape flavored medication, I took my chance. The closest place to drop toxins filled with artificial flavorings and strange combinations of dextromethorphan and guaifenesin (otherwise known as cough suppressants and expectorants in which I only knew the names of because I had, at one time, been determined to find out what I was putting in my body that was _supposed _to make me better) was the glass of orange juice. I took my chance and quickly dumped the horrendous liquid into the glass before placing the plastic cup back to my lips. Unfortunately, some of it still got onto my lips and, out of habit, my tongue reached out to clean it off.

The taste was horrifying and it was enough to make me want to gag. I tried my best to keep calm but honestly, I literally felt like puking. Bella's head lifted up from the floor and she stood only to sit back beside me. Her eyes had already drifted from the cup to my mouth and up my face so I knew that she had fallen for it. She trusted me more than I gave her credit for and I felt horrible for lying to her. We had been together for nearly a year since she had moved to Forks and never before had I intentionally lied to her unless it was to protect her. This time, I lied to protect myself from unnatural medicinal syrups. The loss of my useless-white-lie virginity was making my mind and conscience take a real beating. But if this was a little white lie and I had just lost my virtue for it, I knew that I had to keep it going until the end.

"Oh god, that was worse than I thought." I could have exaggerated even more but I knew it would be pushing it. Minimal work with all the effect of a fully-fledged lie was what I was aiming for and Bella seemed to accept it as she grabbed the drugged orange juice and held it out to me.

"Here, maybe this'll get rid of the taste." I shook my head and watched in hidden horror as she tilted her head to the side in confusion before shrugging and lifting the glass to her own lips and taking a sip. Her eyes closed for the drink and as she put the nearly-empty glass back down on the dresser, I could see that her mouth was shaped into a grimace and her brows were furrowed. Cautiously, I asked, "Hey, you alright?" She nodded.

"Yeah," she replied before continuing to smack her lips together, her lips turning down in a strange frown. "Does Esme squeeze her own orange juice?" I frowned, a bit confused about where this question was going before grinning.

"Yeah, she squeezes it out of the Tropicana carton." She smacked me before proceeding to kiss my cheek and run her hands through my hair, her nails just lightly grazing over my scalp and soothing me better than anything ever had. I could have fallen asleep there but something had me worried. I always had to take double doses of medication, which was why Esme always mixed two different ones together. My metabolism was fast enough that everything just burned away before it had any real effect on me. But Bella didn't have a very high tolerance for medication. Her numerous trips to the hospital and the countless amounts of pain medications that she had in her medicine cabinet at home told me that. Many of the pills had been halved so she wouldn't lose her inhibitions whenever she took it. So the high dose of surprisingly strong cold and flu medications that she had just swallowed made me worry. But I couldn't dwell on it for long as I reveled in the feel of Bella's fingers running through my hair, distracting me from the pain in my throat and the pressure in my forehead and nose.

* * *

Bella's uncensored thoughts seemed to pour through her, just continuing spew from her mind and out her mouth in the worst case of verbal diarrhea I had ever seen.

"Edward," she said in an almost secretive voice, as if she was telling me exactly _what _was inside Colonel Sander's fried chicken recipe, "I _love _your eyes. They're all green, like clovers. It's kind of like Forks, expect they have brown around the edges. They're beautiful." Her eyes were wide and honest and I smiled at her, knowingly and completely sure that this was all my fault.

Bella was high. Ah, the peculiarity of the situation was enough to make me want to call Emmett and ask him if this was really happening. Only Emmett would have been completely sure.

Bella was cuddled up against me, practically purring like a kitten and rolling her head against my shoulder, her hair tickling my chin and neck. She had been very…_comfortable _for about an hour, twenty minutes after she had taken a drink of the tainted juice. I had known something was wrong when her hands had begun drifting from my hair and down my jaw line. I remember leaning into the touch, wanting more of it familiar caresses only to see them dwelling around my neck and collarbone. She had begun laying kisses against my forehead and cheeks and down my jaw, following her thin, small hands. Had it not been for her glazed over eyes, I would have let her continue.

It was then that my previous worry seemed to be justified. I felt horrible that I didn't toughen up and take the medicine before deciding to dump it all away and risk the chance of Bella drinking it. I mean, this was _Bella _we were talking about. The girl who tripped over nothing. The girl who needed an old red '57 Chevy pick-up truck to keep her safe because any other car, despite all the great crash-test results they had, wasn't tough enough to stand up to the monster truck she had. The girl who was unable to lie about anything because every time she tried, her cheeks would redden and her lip would turn down on one side even though she tried to illusion the frown as a smile. No, Bella was not some ordinary girl that you could laugh about if she got high after taking cold medicine.

"Bella, love, maybe you should lie down a bit. You look a little woozy," I spoke with a false grin, trying to find it in me to not just push her down onto the bed with me and wrap her in the blankets so she wouldn't be able to escape. Ever since the effects had set in, she had been wobbling around back and forth, her normally clumsy and awkward walking more uneven and awkward. If my back hadn't been so sore, I would have gotten up and pulled her back to the bed. Thankfully, every time I had called for her to come back to me, she would wobble back to me eagerly and plant another kiss on my cheek, every time grazing even closer to my lips. And as much as I wanted her to plant her lips on my own, I knew that the cold medicine only treated symptoms and allowing her to get too close to my own could mean that not only would she be intoxicated, but she would also end up sick. The time that I was missing with her lips on my own was already too much to bear. Another three to six days of waiting for her to be better would be unbearable.

"No I'm not," she protested, shaking her head only to nearly fall into my shoulder in the process. As if she didn't even care about her fall, she lay back down beside me and cuddled into my side. I sighed, angry with myself for being childish to begin with. I kissed her hair and whispered, "I'm sorry."

"I know," she replied. "I'm sorry too." Confused, I turned to her. "Why are _you _sorry?"

She blinked, "Well, I'm sorry for a lot of things. For one, I'm sorry for asking you to fix my truck. And I'm sorry I hate your car."

"Hey, I was the one who wanted to fix it in the rain. An –wait, you hate my car?"

She blushed, a look of true embarrassment but complete truthfulness in her face. "Well, it's just…it's so _perfect_. It's always clean and shiny and sometimes, it's just too much for Forks. I mean," she took a large breath, "it's like all you see in the parking lot is your car because it stands out. It kind of makes me want to just throw mud on it or something to make it look like every other rust bucket out there!" A little sad that she hated my car, I pulled her closer to me. For a girl who was high, she was talking with surprising eloquence. But seriously, she hated my _car_?!

"Edward," she gasped loudly, jolting up in the bed and pushing my arm away. "I just realized something!"

Surprised, I tried to sit up as well; only able to raise my back a few inches before collapsing back into the pillows, the soreness nearly unbearable. "What's wrong?" I groaned out, too sore to even try to sit up anymore. My arm hurt from when she had pushed it away.

"I'm supposed to be nursing you back to health," she exclaimed loudly, her voice eager and happy. I didn't really see what the big deal was, especially since she had already given me the medication (despite my lack of cooperation and the fact that I hadn't _actually _taken it). There wasn't much else she could do and I wasn't about to let her go and retrieve Esme who, at the moment, probably believed me to be asleep because she knew how drowsy that dose of medication would make me. Of course, Bella didn't seem to be acting according to the medicines' possibly negative symptoms. She was happily humming along to an unknown tune, one that sounded seemed so….unique. I couldn't stop myself from humming along with her the lullaby that I had written for her when I had first expressed my love to her. The two melodies seemed to mix together, intertwining in a strangely alluring way. Bella's alto voice along with my bass seemed to go in perfect harmony.

Again, Bella's hands seemed to drift from my chest up towards my face, cupping my jaw with one hand while twirling her fingers between her thin, nimble fingers. Something escaped my throat, a sound I couldn't recall ever making before, one that made me blush in embarrassment and shame that I had actually made it.

I moaned.

In my defense, it wasn't something I could control. The vixen's fingers were lightly tugging away at my hair, almost as if pulling me to make a move even though my sore body protested. My nasal passages weren't as stuffed up now and for that, I silently thanked Bella for her company. She always had this way of making me feel like I was on top of the world and that was the only explanation I really had. Her soft hands were lightly dragging against my jaw as she stared at me with her wide, glassy eyes, the intoxication just barely wearing off.

In response to my heinous reaction to her touch, Bella's lips began maneuvering their way around my neck, lightly placing small kisses in their wake. My exhausted body was reacting with fervor, refusing to stop despite the pain that it was just feeling. My mind was telling me to stop her, to tell her no before this all got too far. I didn't know how this Bella would take it if I told her no, especially since the last time. The first time we had begun advancing in our physical relationship, I had had to object before we could move along. She had been so hurt that I had had to chase her down the stairs before she could run away. Her tears that day had scared me so much that I feared that I would lose her if I pushed her away again. Her insecurities truly were an inconvenience.

But I didn't want her to do this now, not when she had no idea what she was doing to herself or me. But just as I opened my mouth to stop Bella's proceedings, a weight was placed over my hips, holding me down and taking whatever air I had gathered to object.

"Bella, love, you need to get off of me," I gasped, trying to readjust her so I could breathe better. She wasn't heavy, not by a long shot, but she was sitting on my stomach at a strange angle, her rough blue jeans scratching against the skin that was revealed when my shirt had ridden up. Plus, my stomach was sore because of the pain in my back. She must have noticed what I was doing because she moved lower until she was sitting directly over my hips, my stomach relieved of the weight. Her cheeks were covered with crimson but a seductive smile on her face. She leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips over my open, shocked mouth. Her eyes were alight with a new spark when she pulled away. Uncharacteristically, she giggled at me and laid her palms against my pectorals, her fingers dragging swelteringly amazing trails down my chest.

"But Edward, I'm supposed to nurse you back to health, remember?" I gasped as something wet and warm was dragged along the neck, something so sinfully wonderful that I unintentionally leaned towards it, wanting more. "Bella," I gasped, wanting more than anything to just flip her over on the bed and kiss her harder than I ever had before. "We can't do this, not right now. Later, when you can think clearly, please," I pleaded, my breathing already not allowing me to speak normally.

"Oh my god, Bella's playing naughty nurse to Edward's sick patient," someone yelled from the door. I couldn't crane my neck, but I knew who it was. I hadn't locked the door and Emmett always had a knack for bursting in through the door at the worst times. I was about to retort, but I was interrupted by a growl from the woman on top of me.

With her hair falling into her face, her eyes narrowed glaringly at Emmett, she growled out, "Get. Out. NOW!" Her eyes said 'murder' and Emmett quickly took to the warning with fear, making a run for it as soon as he shut the door, his heavy footsteps making it clear. I looked back to Bella, leaning my head back slightly from her tensed body. I had never seen her so angry before, so viciously filled with rage that she would express it like that. Sure, she had once stomped her foot in my presence but the violence never extended to anyone.

"Bella," I whispered cautiously. If she wanted to scream at me as well, I would allow her to, but I wanted to know why she was so angry too. Instead of replying, she just scooted down my legs and hopped off the bed with surprising grace. Her legs carried her to the far corner of the room where she sat with her back to the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest. She laid her head on her knees, her shoulders trembling slightly. I waited for the sobs I was sure I would hear, but instead, I heard something else.

She was _laughing_.

I frowned. Had I finally made her crack? Had I driven her so immensely insane that I had made broken the link we had together, all because I didn't want to take a double dose of cold medicine? Did I truly stoop to that level?

Throwing the blankets away from my legs, I tried my best to walk over to her, unsteadily at first, my legs wobbling like a new born giraffe's before the joints finally became aware of what I was trying to do. When I was in front of my love, my knees gave out and landed me with a 'plop' on the floor. Immediately, my arms took hold of her shoulders and pulled her to me with the weakened strength they had. She relaxed into my hold, her head moving from her knees to my shoulder, her legs straightening out to the side. She continued laughing, but I could feel warmth and wetness leaking out onto my shoulder, soaking my sleep shirt's sleeve. Not caring about my clothes, I held her tighter.

"I knew I shouldn't have pretended to be high," Bella muttered angrily into my shoulder, her lips grazing my shirt. Had I not been trying to focus solely on her words, I would have fallen victim to her lips again.

"Bella, what are you talking about?" She shook her head and stopped her laughing immediately, pulling her face away from my shoulder and glaring at the wall. "Edward, I'm not stupid. I know you put that stuff in the orange juice." I should have seen it coming. Bella had always been highly observant. It was like she had a sensor for things that other people would never see.

"At first, it took me awhile to figure it out but then I started feeling all dizzy and I realized that your breath didn't smell like grapes…" she trailed off, leaving everything out in the open for me to put together.

"Wait, you faked being high the entire time?" I asked, amazed. Bella's acting had been improving. She had always been a horrible actress, never being able to lie, not even to her father, Charlie, the man of few words.

She blushed and looked down at her hands. "Well, not the entire time. I _was _a bit…disoriented for awhile. I don't really remember how long." '

I sighed in relief. "Thank god, I thought you really did hate the Volvo." I pulled her in closer to me, but she wriggled back slightly, her brows furrowed.

"When did I say I hated your car?"

"Bella, just a few minutes ago, you were telling me how much you hated my car. Remember, it being the only thing you could see in the parking lot and wanting to throw," I gulped in horror, "mud on it? How could you forget?"

"Umm…oh yeah, right," she shook her head, slapping her palm to her forehead, her eyes shooting up. "How could I have forgotten?" I smiled and pulled her close again, this time reveling that she didn't pull away.

"Love, why were you so upset?" She shook her head, refusing to open her mouth to respond.

"Bella," I warned her. She sighed.

"I just…I wish you would just want me the way I want you. But I understand if you don't. I mean, look at you," she gestured towards me with her hand. "And look at me. We're practically polar opposites."

I nuzzled her neck with my nose, inhaling her naturally floral scent and just enjoying how it mixed with her strawberry shampoo. I thanked the heavens for clearing up my nasal passages so quickly. "You know that's not true, right? You know that I want you, possibly more than you want me." She grip on me tightened slightly as she shook her head.

I sighed, "Bella, I thought you were high. Do you really think I would have taken advantage of you in that situation?" She nodded before laughing into my shirt. She looked up at me with lightened eyes, the brownish-chestnut color shining clearly. "Well, I don't think you would take advantage, but I kind of hoped you would. It's hard acting like I just got high on cold medicine. Faking confidence is so much harder than I thought it would be. I sort of hoped it wouldn't be for nothing." I shook my head at her.

"You've gotten better at acting. I couldn't tell you were faking until you told me. I mean, I don't think I've ever seen you act so clumsy before." She blushed again and muttered, "_That _wasn't acting." I laughed loudly, my burying my face back in the nape of neck, my shoulders shaking her in my arms slightly because of my laughter.

"Hey! It wasn't my fault. You had to be a big baby about taking the medicine. Jeez, you'd think I was trying to pour liquid nitrogen down your throat," she retorted, her voice alight with restrained laughter.

"What'd you say?" I pulled my head away from her and planted a serious, angry look on my face.

"I said you were being a big baby, that's what I said," she said with a cocky look on her face. She knew I would never be truly angry with her. I fought back a smirk and leaned in until my lips touched her ear.

"You know," I whispered breathily, "you really shouldn't have said that." Before she could say anything, she was on her back beneath me, her eyes wide in surprise and her hair fanned around her face.

"I take it back," she breathed. "You aren't a baby. You are very manly, very macho." I grinned at her from above, loving how a blush came to her cheeks when I stared deeply at her.

"Good, that's all I wanted to hear. And I don't mind you being high (though I don't think you should be)…just not too high, okay?" She nodded, a playful grin on her face. I leaned down to capture her lips only to be interrupted.

"Oh my god, Edward's playing healed patient to Bella's submissive nurse!"

"Dammit Emmett!"

**A/N: **This one-shot was almost completely pointless. I had the idea weeks ago and was finally able to write it out. Now that I have, I'm not sure I like it. I think it is okay, kind of funny, but still, it really has no plot. Oh well, I can live with meaningless fluff. Hope you all enjoyed it! Please REVIEW!!!

Oh yeah, as for Bella's highness, well, that's kind of how I act when I'm just waking up. I know what's going on but at the same time, I feel kind of woozy. Tony (my bro) says I look high when he tries to wake me up. Then I usually try and make a wicked awesome comeback (and sometimes it's just stupid). So yeah.

Again, REVIEW!!!


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